


If You Change Your Mind

by NutmegQueen



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-01 23:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10203587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NutmegQueen/pseuds/NutmegQueen
Summary: Tobin Heath uproots from Chicago to chase down her business career in the Big Apple. After her first heartbreak, a non-committal streak has her running away from danger on all sides of the romantic front, with the help of her assistant. That is, until she meets a danger she can't get away from.





	1. Leaving

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something new that I've wanted to try for a bit. I hit a writer's block and had to chill out for a while. Feedback is my life. Hope you like this, as I am totally hoping to continue it. Love y'all !! :)

_**Chicago, April, 2012** _

“You don’t have to go.” The voice whispers through exhausted, hard-fought tears. The noise is the emotional-equivalent of nails on a chalk board to Tobin’s ears. The sorrow in her voice is immeasurable, and she can feel another little chunk of her heart breaking off with every strangled sob.

“You know I do.” Tobin swallows, willing herself to be the strong one, for once. “You know that.”

Moonlight breaks through the window of the trodden down phone booth, and coats the dirty, leaf-covered floor with an empty blue glow. She’s called her from this booth before, when it’s glass was new, when sunlight bathed it’s walls instead, before the white paint had chipped, and faded and worn. When people bustled outside and chatter lilted in the air, when snow fell softly and rain beat down mercilessly, when sun reigned down happily, when the girl on the other side was giggling through the wire.

She can hear the strangled breathing, the nasally sound that only coats the girl’s voice after she’s been shedding tears.

“How do you know this is what you want?”

The crackling of the phone wire coats the silence. Tobin wraps it around her pointer finger. Unwraps it, wraps it again. It makes the crackling louder, but the movement helps calm her.

“I mean, you haven’t even tried anything here in the city. We could make it work. Right here, we could. You can hand out resumes. I can help you. We can do it all next week, and the week after that if you need it. I’ll take time off. I swear. You can’t just go.”

Tobin lets her talk. She lets her throw out her ideas, lets her clear her head. She knows though, that it’s just too late to turn back, no matter what the circumstance. This is her dream, and she has to do it justice, to see it through. She has to chase it, even if it means leaving her other dreams behind. As a sniffle comes through the wire, she closes her eyes to ground herself.

A leaf crunches under her boot as she shifts. She stares at a patch of chipped paint, revealing metal beneath it. She reaches up, lets her finger ghost the metal, not flinching as she touches the freezing, exposed surface. _This will rust soon_ , she thinks.

She takes a deep breath.

“I’m leaving in the morning. I’m sorry.”

The line is silent. She wraps her finger in the chord, unwraps it. Wraps it again. Wonders can the other girl hear the crackle, realizes it doesn’t matter and unwraps it once more.

The bitter cold bites at her fingertips as she squeezes them in her palm in a feeble attempt to warm them. Her nails dig into her skin. The silence is costly. She feels every degree of cold, every second ticking by as she stares at the paint chip.

“That’s all you have to say?”

She sounds exhausted- no, drained. Tobin knows she’s been up the past two nights, devising schemes to get her to stay, to make it work. She can see her now, in a helpless pile on her bed, her clothes starting to accumulate on the floor. Her paints left open and dried up, the curtains drawn, no moonlight, just dark. Always dark, ever since she was a teenager. The phone against her ear, her mascara starting to spoon and collect in the hollow shelves beneath her eyes. Her head down, her sobs choked back. Totally defeated, the way Tobin had found her one hundred times since they were fifteen. The way she had always envisioned she would find her one thousand more, until they were old and grey and no more tears would come, because they would surely find peace. She knew they would.

“Yeah.”

A pitter-patter begins on the metal above her head. A tiny dance of a million raindrops begins above her as she watches the clouds move over the moon, making the booth instantly a little darker, a little safer.

A few more sniffles come through to her miserable ear, as the line crackles more with the twirling of Tobin’s finger.

The line goes dead.

She keeps it to her ear for a second, taking in the sound of the dial tone. The silent goodbye that will haunt her for years to come.

Putting up her hood and taking a deep breath, Tobin clicks the phone down quietly, and steps out into the dark, rainy, city street.  
_

_**Present Day, New York City** _

“Put that in my filing cabinet.” Tobin commands, doing a twirl to collect the coffee she had been waiting for from the intern who shuffles up to her, while simultaneously dropping a folder onto the desk of the waiting blonde. The woman tips her glasses down to study the new addition to her desk. Continuing past her assistants desk as quickly as she had arrived there, Tobin doesn’t stop as the woman calls after her.

“Ms. Heath! Jenna called again. She says for you to call her back as soon as possible.”

Tobin turns, hand on the door to her office, a look of deep thought etched on her features. Her eyebrows go into a furrow as she leans against the door, tapping her fingers on the silver handle.

“Tell her I’m very busy. Meetings.” She resolves, opening the door.

“Ms. Heath, I’ve told her that three times this week.” The woman sighs. “Perhaps, you should tell her you’re not interested?”

Tobin closes the door to her office, sighing and looking in both directions. To her relief, there are no interns shuffling around the area. She approaches her assistants desk, stopping in front of her to lay her coffee down, directly on a piece of paper. The woman cringes, knowing it will probably leave a dark brown ring of coffee on the memo. She slides it out from beneath the coffee, eyeing her boss and shaking it suggestively to tell Tobin not to do that.

Tobin narrows her sight, taking a deep breath before she starts talking pointedly, but quietly, so as not to draw attention.

“Look, Allie. You know how busy I am. I can’t have personal calls coming through like that. You feel me?”

“Tobin. Tell her you’re not into it. She calls like, every day. I’m running out of excuses. How many times can you do this before she shows up here?”

“Look. You’ve done it before for me. Just- take care of it." Allie shoots her a cocked eyebrow, and Tobin's shoulders slump, as she realizes that that tone hasn't ever, and never will in the future, work on Allie. "Please?” Tobin shoots her her best pair of pleading eyes.

Allie sighs, leaning back in her office chair, arms crossed. She appears to be seriously debating this. She looks up to find a pair of expectant chocolate eyes petitioning her.

“Alright.”

Tobin beams, standing up straight again as she smooths out her blazer, ready to head out again.

“But.” Allie continues, much to her bosses chagrin. “You’re buying my coffee.”

“Deal.” Tobin extends a hand.

“Every morning. For the next month.”

Sighing, Tobin retracts her hand for a second. The stern look her blonde assistant shoots her makes her place it back, begrudgingly.

“Alright, alright.” Tobin sighs. “Just take care of it.”

“Sure thing, boss.” The blonde smirks mischievously, shooting Tobin a self-satisfied smile. She sits back smugly in her chair, opening the file Tobin had left on the way to her office and flicking through it.

Tobin shakes her head as she heads on toward her office, coffee in hand, clicking the door in place behind her.

 


	2. Balance The Books

Dropping her keys on the counter, Tobin surveys her kitchen. The tall windows let the moonlight seep in and reflect off the marble counter tops. Shimmying her coat off, she drapes it over the back of a chair as she continues over to the island, leaning against it.

Studying the moonlight, she feels her heart rate decline for the first time all day. She was always told in university that closing deals would get easier every time one was successful, and her record was excellent. After almost five years though, she finds her stress levels still haven’t depleted in the slightest.

The exceptionally quiet atmosphere  of her house is calming at first, but it starts to feel a little overbearing after a second of those thoughts. She thinks about how it might be nice to come home to someone who could take her mind off of work for a while. Maybe not even a _someone_. Her mother had always told her to get a dog, to keep her company, and she had considered it, but ultimately opted out.

_

 

_**Chicago, October, 2010** _

The sound of a ringing doorbell resonates throughout the tiny apartment, as Tobin hops up eagerly.

All but jogging down the hallway, she throws it open. She’s greeted with the beaming face of her mother, holding a basket stuffed to the brim with, as far as Tobin can see, food.

“You made it!” Tobin beams.

“Of course I did. Look at you! You look different to me already.”

Tobin moves aside to let her in, accepting the basket and a kiss on each cheek.

“I was home this summer, mom. I doubt I’ve changed that much.” She chuckles.

“A mother’s eyes, honey. You look older everyday. The closer you get to your graduation, the older we both seem.” She places a hand lovingly on Tobin’s cheek, who shakes her head in laughter at her mother’s sentimentality.

“How is university treating you?”

“It’s been great. I’m doing well, I enjoy the work. Yeah, it’s good.” Tobin smiles, moving for her mother to enter further into the house.

She stops, hands on her hips, and looks around the living room, poking her head up the hallway.

“So. Where’s your roommate?”

“Oh. She’s at work. She uh, she works a lot.”

“Is that a good or a bad thing?” Her mother winks.

“Well, I have the house to myself a lot,” Tobin replies unsteadily. If her mother notices the careful wording, she doesn’t comment on it. “Um, like when she isn’t working, she’s usually playing soccer, so,” She trails off awkwardly, moving to lay the basket in the kitchen.

“I see.” Her mother observes. “Why don’t you get a dog? They’re great company, you know. We’ve had Skip for years.”

“My roommate doesn’t like dogs, mom.” Tobin rubs the back of her neck.

“Well, she’s hardly here anyways, right?” She winks.

Tobin looks adoringly at her mother as she flicks the kettle on to make them a cup of coffee.  
_

**_Present Day, New York City  
_ **

The next morning finds Tobin hastily pulling her Audi into her parking space, and jumping out of the car while balancing her briefcase and two coffees. The puddle beneath her heeled boot splashes dramatically, sending a stream of water up the side of her dress pants. It nearly reaches her trench coat, which she jerks upward dramatically to try and spare.

“Shit.” She murmurs, maneuvering quickly around the others as she reaches the doors of the building, trying to balance the tray in her hand.

Moving hastily toward the elevator, she presses the white button repeatedly and quickly as she stands impatiently.

“You do know hitting it more won’t make it arrive any faster, right?” Following the voice, she turns to see Allie, who was clearly here on time, if not early. She’s in a perfectly matching head to toe ensemble of black heels, a black skirt and a white collared blouse. She grins cockily as she plucks a coffee from the tray in Tobin’s hand.

“Thank you.” She lilts.

“Just so you know, that coffee in your hand is the reason that I’m ten minutes late.” Tobin retorts, turning back to face the elevator.

“And just so _you_ know, I’ve saved you from another doomed tryst, yet again. I think a coffee is a small price to pay for peace of mind, don't you?”

A different elevator arrives before the one they wait in front of, so the two shimmy over and enter after a couple of interns, one man and one woman. The woman is dressed conservatively and doesn’t look up from the paper she’s studying in her hands. The man has a clean pressed suit and neat, slicked over black hair. He smiles politely at the two and shimmies over to make room, as Allie unabashedly looks him up and down, offering a flirtatious smile.

Tobin fights the urge to roll her eyes, as she continues smiling politely and pushes the button for the twenty-third floor.

She smugly crosses her arms before her as she watches in the mirror above as the two interns exchange an impressed gaze, realizing that only the head honchos occupy the top floor.

“What’s my lunch looking like?” She asks absently as the elevator begins to move.

“Um. It’s going to have to be a little early if you’d like to close a deal for Gregory, he isn’t in town, again. We can, of course, pass it off to Sydn-.”

“That won’t be necessary. What time?”

“Okay. So, it’s a new client, scheduled to be coming in at three. Supposed to be a big deal if we can land this guy. Your lunch is looking to be around 11:00.”

Tobin nods in approval. The elevator stops and the two interns move off at the fifth floor, and Allie and Tobin spread out once more, Tobin feeling a little freer to ask more about this now that the prying ears are gone.

“So who’s this client?”

“Ah, he represents a football club.” Allie scans over the file in her hands for more information.

“Football as in…?”

“As in soccer. Not American football.” Allie informs her.

“And what does a soccer team want from a business bureau?” Tobin inquires.

“Someone who can balance the books. Let’s see.” Allie flips through pages in her hand, passing her coffee off to Tobin.

“Last accountant was dismissed for embezzlement.” She taps her pen on the page where she finds this information.

“Interesting. This team must generate a lot of revenue if someone was bold enough to sneak out money under their noses without the expectancy of being caught. You wouldn’t imagine a soccer team could generate that kind of income. Impressive."

“Embezzlement is impressive?” Allie deadpans, letting her glasses fall down her nose in a judgmental gaze.

“The team, Ms. Long.” Tobin smiles tight lipped as the elevator stops and three people shuffle in.

Allie places the sheet back into the binder in her hands, and ceases the conversation.

_

Tobin arrives back from her lunch at 12:00, leaving her a couple of hours to prepare for the deal. She obtains a briefing from Allie on the background of the case, and sends out some interns to find her some precedent closures in sports deals, which she isn’t all that familiar with. They're usually Gregory's forte, but he insists on taking business trips and making others close for him.

Tobin is confident and ready to go by 2:40, so she waits patiently in her office.

Much to her relief, as she checks her cell phone, there are no waiting messages from the Jenna girl she had met last week, thanks to Allie. _As annoying as she is, she works miracles_ , Tobin has to admit.

She heads to the board room at 2:50, and finds the man already waiting.

He’s middle aged, his hair line receding, but his smile is bright and his suit is well-pressed and exceptionally well-fitting. He extends a firm handshake, which Tobin returns as they exchange introductions.

“Take a seat.” Tobin offer cordially, a hand extended in gesture.

After introductory talk, the man produces the documents Tobin really came to see. She relives her earlier surprise at the revenue generated by this particular female team. She had been surprised to realize that their revenue exceeded that of most male teams in the country, given the wage gap disputes. She can feel herself becoming much more interested in this deal by the second.

“Forgive me, but it was my understanding that I would be meeting with a Mr. Gregory Reid today. That’s why these proposals are addressed as such.” The man explains.

“Mr. Reid was not in town today, I’m afraid, and I opted to cover this deal. I think I can see past a name.” Tobin smiles, earning a beaming smile back.

“Perhaps we could deal with you in the future instead?” He offers seriously, much to Tobin's self-satisfaction.

She thinks about the notion for a second, about robbing Gregory of a client. She wants to say no, but this case is of particular interest to her, so before she can choose to be rational, her mouth answers for her.

“Of course.”

When the meeting commences, the two shake hands, as Tobin leads him out, feeling little to no guilt about taking over the management of this deal.


	3. Baby Blue

A much needed sunny spell breaks the overbearing rainy weather that had been plaguing New York all week. Fitness was always of the utmost importance to Tobin, who takes it as a sign from the gods that she should go for a run while she finally has a day off.

The park, while beautiful, is overwhelmingly massive, so Tobin opts to stick to the same familiar route each time she goes.

_  
_**New York, May, 2013** _

“I’m by the bench, directly across from the Balto sculpture.”

“Okay, I think I see you. Stay there.”

The blonde scurries toward her, hair bouncing and glowing in the sun rays, with her peppy walk, offering a goofy wave as she approaches. A soft smile tugs at the corner of Tobin’s lip.

Ms. Long has only been her assistant for just shy of a month, but Tobin already has a soft spot for her, and all her enthusiasm. Yin and Yang has quickly become their dynamic.

“Oh my god. I didn’t even know you without a blazer on.” Allie jests, wide smile on her mouth as she tugs the brunette into a bone-crushing hug. Tobin hates hugs, definitely wasn’t expecting one, and hardly knows how to touch her back.

“Sorry, I may have taken a while. I’m not familiar with this area at all.” She offers, lamely. a little flustered and shy now that she’s outside of the work environment with Allie, who she has to admit, is more than a little attractive to her.

“Well, that’s why we’re here, silly. You can’t just live in New York and not go to Central Park. Where did you even go for walks before?” She inquires, looping her arm through Tobin’s as they begin to walk. Allie steers them determinedly in the direction she’s familiar with, and if it were anyone else, Tobin is sure she would cringe at the contact.

“The streets around my place.” She shrugs. Her eyes search the passer-bys warily, wondering what others think of the contact. Much to her surprise, no one seems to look back. Not even one person.

“Jeez. Well, I’m about to show you a much nicer route. You’ll never walk the streets again.” She beams cheerily, tugging Tobin along a stand of maples. “It’s a loop. I jog it sometimes, too. Best one in the park for jogging, actually. In my humble opinion."

Tobin’s phone rings in her back pocket. She hates to be _that_ person, but she has to check it, just in case.

Taking it out, her eyes go wide when she sees the number. Quickly shoving it back in her pocket, she ignores the churning in her gut.

“You need to take that?” Allie inquires, considerately.

“Oh, no. God no.” Tobin laughs awkwardly at the suggestion.

“Ou.” Allie chuckles. “I got ya, I got ya.”

“What do you mean?” Tobin asks seriously.

“Those ‘oh God, no,’ phone calls, they only come from one type of person in your life. If ya know what I mean.”

Tobin eyes her sideways, curious about Allie’s implication. Allie is looking in the total other direction, nonchalantly and sincerely studying the sky.

“Oh come on, Tobin. Love interest. Ex. You know.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah.” Tobin replies lamely.

“So, you wanna tell me about it? We’ve got another half hour ahead of us on this trail you know.” She entices, nudging Tobin.

Tobin smiles sideways at her prying, invasive, first-rate assistant.  
_

_**Present Day, New York City** _

She’s rounding the final corner of the familiar maples, back to the parking lot where her car waits, when the music in her headphones goes silent. She slows to a jog, assessing her phone screen for the problem, as she finds a call coming in.

_Allie Long_

Sliding the unlock button, she answers, trying to let the least amount of annoyance possible bleed through in her voice.

“Hello?”

“Tobin, it’s Allie. So I got a call from your client, the soccer deal. Can you talk?”

She begrudgingly slows to a walk, tilting the phone speaker upward so her laboured breathing isn’t going into the microphone.

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Listen, there's a tournament happening here, all month. I know right. Who knew soccer tournaments were that long. Anyway, he and his team will be in the city. There’s a game on Tuesday. He wants to extend a couple of free tickets to you.”

“Sure. We can give them away in the office as a morale booster.” Tobin nods, panting a little from her run.

“They were extended to you, personally.” Allie states, to Tobin’s aggravation. "As your assistant, I suggest you go. Obviously. I mean, this is one on one. This is face value, could be good for the deal.”

Tobin rolls her eyes, thankful that the blonde can’t see her. _Well duh, I should go._

“That’s on a Tuesday, Allie. I can’t very well miss a week day for soccer. My Tuesday is booked solid. Always is. Take them anyway, we’ll have a draw for them on Monday.”

“I already took care of it. Your Tuesday is cleared.” She can practically hear the smugness in Allie’s voice.

_Great, now I have to go._

“Oh, great.” She nods, with as much fake enthusiasm as she can muster. “Great. Thanks, Allie. I’ll have to call and extend a thank you myself.”

“Good thinking. Sounds like it will be a good time! I love soccer. I’ve never seen a Women’s league game.”

“Would you like to come?” Tobin asks, deadpan, picking up on the forlorn hint in Allie’s tone.

“Me? Awh I couldn’t.”

“Okay. I’ll jus-“

“Pick me up at seven.” Allie cuts her off. “Wear something baby blue.”

_Baby blue? What the hell do I own that’s baby blue._

She’s about to question this when she gets a hurried ‘I’ve got to go’ and the line goes dead.  



	4. Easy Win

Tuesday comes around, despite the dread in the back of Tobin’s mind. It isn’t that she doesn’t enjoy watching sports, but the pragmatic side of her is sure that she could be doing any number of more productive things on a Tuesday evening than _this_ , given her workload this week. In the back of her mind, though, she’s aware that this is the kind of thing that will solidify her as the go-to person for this deal, rather than Mr. _I-Hardly-Show-Up-_ Gregory.

So, when 5:00 rolls around, she packs up all her take-home files, and places them in her briefcase.

Clicking her office door closed, she lays her briefcase on the floor beside her feet and flips her hair off her shoulders, pulling her black overcoat on. A pretty intern with long brown hair walks by slowly, looking over a piece of paper in her hands, before locking her eyes onto Tobin’s.

“Have a good evening, Ms. Heath.” The woman smiles flirtatiously. Tobin offers her a tight lipped smile. “You too, Alex.”

When she turns, she finds Allie turned toward them in her office chair, glasses on the bridge of her nose, eyebrows raised in knowing jest.

Tobin doesn’t react to the gaze, choosing to stride by Allie’s desk, offering her a simple “See you later, Allie.”

“See you at seven, Ms. Heath.” She says, mischief in her tone.  
_

Tobin picks Allie up at 6:50. Allie strides down her steps in a full on jersey, with a cap on her head. It takes Tobin a second to register that it is, in fact, her assistant. She’s hardly ever seen her when she wasn’t in a skirt and heels. The sight makes her want to chuckle, but she of course, doesn’t.

Allie opens the car door with a beaming smile already on her face.

“Is that a foam finger?” Tobin scoffs.

“Yes. It is. I brought face paint, too!” She shuffles through her purse and produces an entire tray of various coloured face paint after she closes the door. “I’ll paint you when we get there. Since you almost definitely didn’t wear baby blue like I told you too.”

Allie reaches above their heads to flick on the dome light and observe Tobin’s outfit.

“Really?” She deadpans. “You’re going to wear a skirt and blazer to a soccer game?”

“This is a business contact, Allie. Besides. You can never be overdressed or over qualified.”

Allie rolls her eyes. “At least take the bun out. I have another hat.”

“We’ll see.” Tobin hums nonchalantly, navigating the busy city streets.  
_

The tickets, as it turns out, were for premium seating. They shuffle in to their seats, and Tobin slides her jacket off, revealing that she did, after all, wear a baby blue shirt beneath her black blazer.

Allie smirks, knowing that Tobin had a little enthusiasm and spirit hidden in her stoic composure, somewhere.

The blonde roots through her purse, producing her face paint. She turns to Tobin, taking her face in one of her hands and turning her toward herself.

“Do you just want stripes?”

“Sure.” Tobin nods.

“Okay. Here.”

Allie paints on two thick stripes under each eye, one blue and one white, before putting the paint away and turning toward Tobin, hat in hand.

Tobin takes the ball-cap to survey it. It reads “Chicago Red Stars.” Their logo is neat and symmetrical, and Tobin nods in approval as she studies it. She takes her bun out, and places the cap on over her straight hair.

Allie nods and smiles at her in approval. “Now you look like you’re ready for a soccer game."  
_

Tobin leans back in her seat in interest as the girls starting lineup shuffles onto the field. _So this is what a couple of soccer players who generate better income than the men look like_ , she thinks.

“Christen Press is starting!” Allie points out in excitement.

“I suppose that’s a good thing?” Tobin inquires.

“A good thing? She was the best striker at Stanford. The records prove it. She might just be the best striker in the entire league right now. I’m talking world class. Played for Sweden.”

Tobin looks sideways at her assistant, who is clearly into this whole soccer business.  
“You really follow soccer, hey?”

“Yeah.” Allie shrugs sheepishly. “I used to play.”

“Is that right? Why didn’t you tell me that?” Tobin asks, turned fully toward Allie in interest now.

“You didn’t ask.” Allie shrugs, eyes on the field.

Tobin feels a little pang of guilt in her stomach. She likes to be impersonal with business associates, but not so much with Allie.

The camera begins to pan over the girls as the national anthem plays.

“That’s her!” Allie points out, smacking Tobin’s arm.

The camera man seems to hover on her for a minute, seemingly knowing she’s the fan-favourite.

Tobin’s breath nearly catches, as this wasn’t what she expected at all. The girl is absolutely striking. Her eyes are squinted in the light, dark hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail, olive skin, hand on her heart as her lips move minutely to the anthem.

She can feel Allie watching her, so she nods simply in understanding.

“So that’s the girl to watch?” Tobin asks in intrigue.

“Yup."  
_

The game ends with an easy win for Chicago, both goals scored by Press. Tobin found herself clapping furiously, even wooing with Allie in enthusiasm.

They hold their seats afterward, and wait for their contact to come seek them out. About twenty minutes later, they spot him coming up the steps, waving with two men in tow.

“There he is.” Allie points out. “I have to pee. I’ll be back in a jiffy!"  
  
Tobin turns toward the direction Allie is looking in and offers a wave.

The man beams and holds up a finger, indicating that he’ll join her in a minute. He faces the locker rooms and chats with the others.

Tobin looks on as a girl emerges from the locker room, head tilted back, squirting water into her mouth from her bottle. She doesn’t have to look long to realize that it’s the Press girl. She makes her way over to the three men, who pat her on the back and shake her hand.

The four turn, and start to head up toward Tobin and Allie.

“That Press girl is coming.” Tobin turns to smack Allie’s arm. She’s overcome with nerves suddenly, which is painfully uncharacteristic of Tobin. To her great panic, Allie has left her seat.

_God damn it, Allie._

She swallows thickly, sitting up a little straighter.

“Ms. Heath!” The man beams, arms in the air. “How was the game?”

“What an excellent win. Congratulations! Quite a team you’ve got.” She beams, standing to extend a hand. He shakes it, nodding in appreciation. “Ms. Heath, this is Rory Dames.” She shakes hands with the man, and exchanges greetings with the other man.

The two men part to let the fourth figure into the circle.

Tobin’s mouth goes dry when she finally sees the girl up close.

Christen squeezes in, looking immediately to Tobin. She extends a hand instantaneously, and Tobin doesn’t miss a beat.

“Christen Press.” She introduces herself curtly and confidently.

“Oh, I know who you are.” Tobin smiles. “Tobin Heath.”

“Isn’t this a coincidence. I know who you are, too.” Christen smiles back, a hint of something teasing in her eyes.

Tobin smiles politely, totally unsure of how this girl knows her.

“Nice hat.” Christen winks, a coy smirk playing at the corner of her lip. She turns back to the men, then, listening intently as she squirts water into her mouth from the clear bottle in her hand.

A little uneasy, she reaches up and removes the hat, studying it in her hands.

When the conversation wraps up, Christen excuses herself, saying she has to collect her things from the locker room.

“Wait!” Tobin calls after her, excusing herself, as well. She bounds down a few stairs, stopping by the girl who turns back.

“I know this is lame. But, I have to ask.”

Christen looks up to her curiously, turning back fully now to face her, hint of a dare in her playful green eyes.

“Could you sign something for my friend?”

Christen lets out a single breathy chuckle, walking up the step that separates them, until they’re nearly face to face. Tobin is all to aware of how close she now is to this beautiful human, as she fumbles to think of something for her to sign. Admittedly, she hadn’t thought this far ahead.

“Uhm, how about…” she looks all around herself.

“The hat?” Christen smirks coolly, pointing to the baby blue hat atop Tobin’s head.

“The hat! Of course.”

Tobin removes it promptly, passing it to her. The darker haired girls’ hand brushes hers as she takes it, but she doesn’t seem phased by it, so Tobin tries not to be either.

“Or, I actually have some paper in my purse.” Tobin adds, beginning to route around for it.

“I already signed the hat,” Christen replies quickly, cap already back on the marker.

“Oh, gosh you’re fast. Well, okay thank you!” Tobin accepts the hat, getting ready to turn on her heels.

Christen keeps her eyes locked on Tobin, same frustrating playfulness in her eyes. “Well, you don’t have to run away. Give me the paper, too, while I’m here.” She shrugs, smirking. Tobin fumbles under the weight of her unwavering eye contact, and just how annoyingly _nice_ looking she is after running around a field for 90 minutes.

Tobin chides herself for being this lame, as she passes the soccer player a piece of notebook paper, with her business contacts on the bottom.

When Christen caps the pen, she looks back to Tobin, soft smile still on her lips. “Is that all?”

Tobin feels like there is definitely more she would like to say to this beautiful girl, but she remembers the circumstance, and why she’s here.

“That’s all.” She nods curtly. “Thank you, Christen. Good luck in the tournament. You were great.”

“Thank you, Tobin. I’ll be seeing you around.”

Tobin nods and smiles in return, waling back to her seat in autopilot mode as her brain screams at her. She doesn’t really register what the girl said until she’s halfway back up to her seat.


	5. Friends Before Work

Scrunching her face in distaste, Tobin swallows her coffee, ignoring the fact that it certainly isn’t sweetened the way she requested. Her phone lights up beside her mug with Allie’s name, for the fourth time in the last hour. Tobin hasn’t answered once.

She’s convinced that she may need a new keyboard for her Mac by the end of this day, because the letters may be worn off the keys by then.

She arrived at the office an hour before opening, and worked through her lunch, opting to eat a salad at her desk as she worked.

One of Tobin’s favourite sayings that she held near was “time is money.” Not just in the financial sense, but in the sense that time was valuable. Missed time in the office, for example, oh, _going to soccer games on a Tuesday_ ; had to be compensated for. That was how someone like Tobin climbed the ranks so quickly, and held on, or usurped people like Greg on certain fronts.

So then, Tobin figures, the utter _annoyance_ she feels when Allie’s distinctive knock sounds on her door three times is not unjustified. Her New Year’s Resolution, though, was to stop putting work before people. So she takes a deep breath and minimizes the document as Allie enters, giving her her undivided attention.

_

_**Chicago, December, 2011** _

Footsteps patter up the hall. A figure leans against the door frame. Tobin doesn’t offer as much as a second glance, head buried in the hard-covered text book before her.

“Still?” The voice asks, a hushed whisper filled with some odd mixture of annoyance, sadness, probably something else.

Tobin nods once, face hard in the glow of the lamp light.

“It’s Christmas break. It’ll be Christmas in two days. Can’t you put up those stupid books for a week?”

“You know this exam is important for me.” She replies simply, turning the page and continuing to read, expecting her to retreat and leave Tobin in peace to study.

“Right. And I’m not."

Tobin sighs slowly. She removes her reading glasses from her face, and reaches beside her pile of untouched papers, retrieving a sticky note. Placing it in the top corner of the page she was on, she closes the book gently. Looking up, she sees her standing there in nothing but her underwear and a baggy Bud Light tee shirt.

“Come here.” Tobin requests, simply.

The girl walks slowly toward her, now seemingly hesitant, given the discussion that had just unfolded. She arrives in front of Tobin’s tiny desk, placing her hands on each side of it and leaning down.

“Little closer.” Tobin smirks. She admires her long legs in the dim light as she saunters around the desk, coming to sit on it in front of her, her legs to one side of Tobin.

“Closer.” Tobin leans back in her chair, giving the girl ample room as she straddles her. Once she’s settled, Tobin lets her hands run up and down her waist beneath the baggy shirt, kissing her softly. Their pace stays slow, until the kiss breaks. It really is a peaceful moment.

“See. That wasn’t so bad.” The girl whispers above her.

Tobin doesn’t reply as she rests her forehead against hers, hands still on her waist.

“You never kiss me anymore.” She continues, voice not faultering, but hinting of grief.

“Baby…” Tobin starts. She really doesn’t need this right now. She has so much to do over break to be ready for this exam. “You know I want to kiss you. All the time. I’m just so busy.”

She begins to stand, and Tobin can only sigh. It seemed like they were on the right track for a whole thirty seconds there.

“That’s the problem. You’re just so busy. Maybe you always will be.” Her voice is laced in tears again.

Tobin sits up properly in her chair, preparing for the earful she’s about to receive. Instead, the girl begins to walk slowly out the door. Tobin’s eyes roam up her legs, over her torso as she leaves. She can’t deny that she’s heartbreakingly beautiful, but Tobin can only do so much. She has tasks to accomplish outside this life with her.

When she’s gone from the doorway, Tobin shakes her head and opens her book up again.

_

  
**_Present Day, New York City  
_ **

“Come in, Allie.”

Allie enters, coy smile on her lips, clicking the door shut behind her quietly. She comes to a stop in front of Tobin’s desk, batting her eyelashes dramatically.

"Oh no… what do you want?” Tobin narrows her eyes on the blonde, finding it hard for her eyes to adjust to a real human instead of her Mac screen.

“Why do you always assume I want something? God…” Allie rolls her eyes resting her hip on the front of the mahogany desk.

“Okay. That’s true.” Tobin acknowledges, sitting up. “I’m sorry. Now. Seriously. What do you want?”

Allie rolls her eyes again, falling dramatically into the chair across from Tobin.

“Why don’t you answer your texts?”

“I didn’t realize you had texted me.” She fibs. “I’ve been very busy today. I apologize."

“Yeah, yeah. What are you doing after work?” She asks, playing idly with the office supplies that dot Tobin’s desk.

“I’m going home, having a glass of wine, getting in the hot tub, then falling asleep. Nothing else.” She declares, yanking away the decorative glass paper-weight Allie is turning over in her hands, placing it back on her desk.

“It’s Thursday…” She smirks, wickedly.

“That’s correct.” Tobin nods, eyebrows furrowed, still not understanding the insinuation, if there is one.

“Three drinks for five dollars on Thursdays at Rocky Mountain!” She exclaims, as if it were the most obvious implication in the world. As if Tobin had stepped foot inside that place once.

“Just remember you have work in the morning. It isn’t the weekend yet, and now you can’t call me and pretend to be sick, because you’ve just told me your ploy.” She points out, one finger pointed at Allie. She begins typing again, hoping that ignoring Allie will make her go away.

“That’s why you’re coming with me!” The blonde beams, reaching across the table to take Tobin’s hand in her own. “What do ya say?”

“Ha.” She scoffs. “Ha, is what I say. That’s not even a possibility, Allie.” She removes her hand abruptly, still not a fan of contact, even though Allie doesn’t seem to notice, or care.

“You said yourself that you’ve been in here all day…” The blonde starts, mischievously. “You must have gotten a lot done...Or did you not?”

“Of course I did.” Tobin snaps back, hating to have her productivity questioned. Their eyes are locked, and Allie cocks an eyebrow, making Tobin realize that she had just lost whatever game the were playing.

Tobin drops her arms from their defensive position on her chest, and sighs heavily.

“Perfect. I’ll get you at eight.” Allie smiles wickedly, doing a little spin for good measure. The spin makes her skirt flip around like a Marilyn Monroe movie, and Tobin can only shake her head at this awful, adorable, pain in the ass.

 _Friends before work._ She chants in her head.

 

 


	6. The Rocky Mountain

  
“This is the Rocky Mountain?” Tobin asks lowly and incredulously as they exit the cab.

It appears to be three stories high, and boasts an almost impressive amount of neon lighting- if neon lighting were really impressive at all. Bass thumps from within and fills the street outside, to the point where the two can barely hear one another.

“Yup!” Allie grins, taking Tobin’s hand and hauling her toward the door.

“This place looks sleezy, Allie. I was under the impression that we were going to a pub for a few drinks. Not a hole in the wall.” Tobin complains as she’s dragged up the sidewalk. There are girls leaning against the brick wall smoking, clad in crop tops and sinfully short skirts, and Tobin would be lying if she said she didn’t sneak a glance.

Allie watches her, watching them. “See. You’re enjoying yourself already. Don’t be a stick in the mud.” She jests, poking her tongue out between her teeth as she turns back around and drags Tobin inside behind her.  
_

If she thought the bass was deafening outside, once she enters, she could swear the thumping is shaking her brain within it’s casing.

“Allie!” She yells over the noise. Allie points to her ear, and shrugs, indicating that she can’t hear whatever the other girl is trying to tell her. She signals straight ahead and to the right, nodding. Tobin assumes it means follow, so she does.

They break through a wall of people and Tobin sees the bar, nodding in understanding, as Allie presents her arms in a “Ta-da!” manner.

Her eyes are still on Allie, but she strays from her a little, knowing she’ll get to the bar before the blonde if she forges her own path; she isn’t afraid to push people, unlike the blonde. She’s shoving people out of her way, as politely as one can shove people- and has almost made it to the very front when she nudges someone’s arm particularly hard, and feels a drink come sloshing onto her, and presumably, the other party as well.

_Great._

A pair of angry brown eyes find Tobin’s as the girl turns around quickly and defensively. They seem to soften a little as they take her in.

“I’m sorry!” Tobin yells, as loud as she can, directly into the other girl’s ear.

“It’s no biggie. I really thought you were gonna be someone else.” The girl yells back. She leans back from Tobin, a beautiful smile full of big pearly-white teeth on display.

“Let me replace that for you.” Tobin yells again.

“What?” The girl screams.

“I said, let me grab you another drink. I’m about to get one, anyway.”

The girl laughs as she realizes what Tobin is saying. “Okay. Sure.” She shrugs, whip-straight, dark chestnut hair falling over her shoulder as she does so.

“What’s your poison?” Tobin inquires, as the girl slips away from her friend group, taking Tobin’s hand so she doesn’t lose her in the crowd.

“Gin and tonic.” The girl yells over the music, smirking. “I’m Aaliyah, by the way.”

“Tobin.” Tobin smiles, pointing to herself as she flags down a bartender.  
_

When Tobin wakes up the next day, her head is absolutely pounding. Opening her eyes to four soft blue walls, she realizes instantly that she’s not in her own room. She can’t quell her internal panic as she bolts upright, flicking the covers off herself, more than a little relieved to see that she’s still fully clothed from last night.

“Oh thank God.” She murmurs, head falling back on the pillow.

“Wakey wakey!” A voice comes, as the door opens.

Allie’s mouth is in an open smile, as she pushes the door open with her foot, a wooden tray in hand.

“Thank God I’m at your house.” Tobin sighs in relief, sitting upright. “Is that food!?”

“Ou. Thought you had gone home with Aaliyah?” The blonde smirks wickedly, approaching the bed, and laying the tray of food on Tobin’s lap.

“Aaliyah?” Tobin asks, eyes squinted to block out as much light as she can, as she takes in the delicious looking food before her.

“The girl from the bar.” Allie shrugs. She watches as Tobin’s expression remains unmoved. The blonde sits up a little straighter, realization all over her face. “Oh my god. You don’t remember!” Allie’s smile is pure evil. Tobin hates it- no, despises it. What has she done now. Allie smacks her leg scandalously.

“Look at you! Getting black out drunk on a Thursday!”

“Oh my god.” Tobin says, realization ghosting over her features. "It’s Friday. Jesus Allie, what time is it?” Her eyes go wide with shock.

“It’s nine th-“

“Fuck!” Tobin exclaims, standing quickly. “Give me a blazer. Hurry. Any colour but grey. I can’t go in wearing the same thing as yesterday.” Tobin gets to work hauling off her blazer. “Fuck Allie. How could we let this happen.”

“Tobin! Relax.” Allie says calmly, hands in front of her. “It’s only nine thirty. You’re a head honcho. You can show up an hour late, no problem. I guarantee no one will question you.”

“Show up an hour late, in the same clothes as yesterday, with my assistant, both of us hungover?” Tobin asks, panic in all her features.

“Relax. I’ll say I had car troubles, and you helped. And I’ll get you different clothes. Don’t worry.”

Tobin nods, heartbeat slowing down as she realizes that that actually is a pretty good cover. Besides, Allie is right, she decides. Who is going to question Tobin Heath?

She sits back down on the edge of the bed, nibbling on a strawberry off the tray as Allie goes to gather her an outfit. She feels her phone vibrate.

_iMessage (2): Aaliyah_

She groans, and falls backward onto the bed.

 _What a start to the day._  
_

“Going up, ladies?” A handsome man, sporting a brown combover asks, holding his hand between the elevator doors, stalling their closing.

“For now, yes.” Allie smiles flirtatiously.

Tobin looks at her, puzzled, before the joke clicks in her head. She reminds herself to tell the blonde off later for saying those things to other workers in the building.

They file in, and the door is about to close when the distinct clicking of heels nears the elevator, and another hand intercepts the sensor. The doors slide back open, revealing Alex, an intern on Tobin and Allie’s floor.

Alex smiles shyly, slipping into the confined space, facing Tobin and Allie. Tobin smartly places her briefcase, so as to cover up as much of this ridiculous outfit as she can as she offers a tight-lipped smile in return. She feels totally out of place in it.

“That’s a very pretty shirt, Ms. Heath.” Alex smiles sincerely. Tobin’s smile falters just a little, as she gives up and drops the briefcase to her side, revealing her white shirt, with red polka dots, inside her red blazer. She feels her face flush as she replies.

“Thank you, Alex.”

Allie snickers beside her, and Tobin hits her as hard as she possibly can without drawing attention to them, returning to her tight-lipped smile toward Alex.  
_

When they all file off at the 23rd floor, Allie fills Tobin in on her day.

“So, you’re meeting with the team’s representative. The soccer deal. They have an issue they want to discuss with you, involving their marketing strategy.”

“Marketing for soccer. Should be interesting.” Tobin snorts.

“It is, actually.” Allie retorts, sounding somewhat offended. “You are aware that a sports deal isn’t just about balancing a budget, right?”

Tobin sighs, the blonde hot on her trail as she opens her office door. “I know that, Allie.”

“Well, I’m just saying.” The blonde holds her hands up in defense. “Marketing and making a brand is a huge part of sports. That’s how they get a following, and get loyal fans that provide them with the money to hire people like you and I.”

Tobin can’t argue with that point, so she simply lays her briefcase by her desk, waiting for Allie to close her office door and return to her own desk.

The blonde doesn’t move, clearly expecting a reply.

“You know what? You’re right, Allie. Good point.” Tobin commends. “So what’s the name of the representative I’m meeting with?” She asks, shimmying her coat off her shoulders.

“Seriously?” Allie snorts, leaning on her hip in the doorway.

Tobin nods, oblivious.

“Christen Press."


End file.
